


January Blues

by scrawny_raven



Series: You Can Count My Freckles: A Collection Of Poems [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Poetry, Teen Angst, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:20:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29032323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrawny_raven/pseuds/scrawny_raven
Summary: I wrote this quickly when I was feeling down and quite cold, I hope it helps anyone feel a little less lonely this January.
Series: You Can Count My Freckles: A Collection Of Poems [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2129883
Kudos: 1





	January Blues

I have never felt so lonely.  
The traffic outside my window  
Reminds me the world is still moving.  
The earth is still turning, the sun is still shining,  
And even though I haven’t left the safety of my bedroom,  
I trust what I see through the frosted glass.

There is excitement in my neighbor's dorm.  
And even though they’ve invited me over,  
I still feel like it isn’t my place to congratulate them.  
And even though our neighbor across the hall  
Overdosed in the middle of the night,  
I still feel like it isn’t my place to congratulate them.

I can hear my roommate take a shower.  
Lock then unlock the door.  
I haven’t made an effort to talk to her since she moved in,  
But then again, neither has she.  
Somedays I wonder if she is just as lonely as I am,  
But then again, I know she couldn’t be.

Maybe it's seasonal depression.  
No, it’s definitely seasonal depression.

January blues,  
But not a cool hue.  
Not a clear skies blue, a mother’s eyes’ blue.  
It feels like a lover’s lies’ blue, a fresh bruise blue,  
A sort of a bad news blue.  
Like cartoon storm clouds gathering above my head.

It’s, unfortunately, an ironic thing,  
To live in Arizona all your life  
And develop a sense of relentless dread in the winter months,  
To miss that blinding sun and blistering heat  
That wraps your skin in the good kind of goosebumps.  
It’s, stupidly, a cliche thing.

However I find myself standing in front of our toaster oven,  
My fingers outstretched in prayer.  
That the heating in the building gets fixed soon,  
And the ringing in my ears lets up,  
And the courage to get some human interaction,  
And most of all, I pray for June.

**Author's Note:**

> Much love to anyone who reads this. Stay warm!


End file.
